


Under pressure

by MorteMistrata



Series: Lions everywhere [21]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cave-In, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 23:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19095106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorteMistrata/pseuds/MorteMistrata
Summary: There is a cave in. Hunk starts to freak out and Pidge gives comfort.





	Under pressure

There is a sound like thunder ripping the sky in two, and then-

 

The ground disappears beneath him, dust rises in the air in a billowing cloud that darkens the room into blank nothingness, he feels the pit of his stomach drop as his body realizes what must inevitably occur at the end, a high-pitched scream resounds in the air, in the distance, he hears another stifled cry the sensation of falling, and finally,  _ finally,  _ Hunk hits the ground.

 

OoOoO

 

“-but I’d never expected him to be right about this, of all things. He’d said something or other about sixty percent of all realities having geological stability problems in the aftermath of occupation, and sure, we’ve seen it in other planets, but I’d never thought we’d have a problem with it here. I guess that means I’ll have to suck it up and tell Slav he was right, for once.”

 

Hunk tries to sit up, and hits his head on a rock an inch or two above his head. “Ow.”

 

“I don’t want to, but-” A pause, followed by a weak cough. “Hunk?”

 

“Yeah.” His voice is raspy, and his mouth is dry. He coughs, and licks his lips in an attempt to wet them. “I’m here.”

 

“I was worried. You’ve been out for a while.”

 

“How long?’

 

“I’m not sure. A while.”

 

Hunk considers. If he was only knocked out from the impact, that means that they couldn’t have fallen too far. Otherwise, he’d be dead. Still, the head injury is concerning. Brain injuries often go undetected for the longest, and are the hardest injury to heal from. 

 

“Hunk.”

 

Not to mention his wrist being broken, and a possible injury in his legs. He could be bleeding out right now, or on the verge of it. As soon as they find him, and the pressure comes off, he could deflate like a popped balloon, and then what? What would they put on his epitaph? ‘Former hero of the universe dies in building collapse’? 

 

“Hunk.”

 

Hunk isn’t afraid to admit that he’s scared of dying. He’s terrified of it. The only reason why he’s been able to function in the face of it before was because his death would have meant something, and _ it would have been quick.  _ This most decidedly won’t be.

 

“Hunk, are you still okay?”

 

Pidge’s voice is quiet, as if the lack of volume could hide the tremor in her voice. Even through the stone separating them, he can hear it. 

 

“I’m here.”

 

“You weren’t answering me.”

 

“I was thinking.” He sighs and stares at the invisible roof hemming him in. “I was panicking.”

 

“You still are, aren’t you?”

 

“Maybe a little.”

 

The rocks above them shift and settle. A few pebbles bounce off of his helmet. 

 

“I can distract you.” Pidge offers. The tremor in her voice has lessened, and he wonders if taking care of someone else, if pushing her worries onto a target other than herself is calming her down like it usually does for him. “We can talk.”

 

“Okay.” Hunk takes a deep breath. His suit’s air recycler whines as it recirculates air through the suit. Already is smells musty, and dank. “Let’s talk. Tell me what you were talking about earlier, when I woke up.”

 

“The point of this mission was to see how bad Sendak’s weapons had damaged the Earth’s geological workings. Obviously not our strong point, but we’re really the only ones at the Garrison with the knowledge and equipment to get the readings- but you know this already. Before the mission, my dad had contacted Slav and gotten him to calculate the risks. Just before the mission, he’d gotten a reply.”

 

“Which was unnecessarily complicated, and probably annoyed Shiro to no end. Am I right?”

 

“Of course.” Pidge’s reply is without humor. “He’d said that we had a sixty percent chance of this mission failing- of the Earth being so damaged as to make underground missions in a range of thirty-five square miles dangerous, and subject to collapse. They agreed to send us on this mission anyway.”

 

“Then why do you know this?”  _ And why didn’t I? _

 

Pidge coughs, and it echoes; a wet sound like water slapping against a dock. “My dad told me. We were ordered down here anyways.”

 

“So?” A wave of rage bubbles up inside of him, familiar now after the embarrassment and unfair treatment given to them since their arrival.They had been fighting this war for years; and the Garrison still treats them like pawns to be used to their own ends. “Who cares if it were an order? It was a stupid one.”

 

“Yeah, it was. But you would’ve come down here anyway. The information was too important.”

 

“How? How could it possibly be more important than my life?”

 

“It could tell us whether or not the Earth is habitable anymore.” Pidge says. He can barely hear the end of her sentence as it tapers off like film running out. 

 

There are words to be had. Things to say to people, angry ones that can burn and simmer like acid on skin, but Pidge doesn’t deserve to hear them. It’s not her fault, and Hunk doesn’t believe in shooting the messenger. He takes a deep breath of dirt-scented air, and exhales. “Something else. Let’s talk about something else.”

 

“Do you really want to leave Voltron behind?”

 

The stones shift again, but not near him. He pauses, frightened for a moment of his words causing them to move again, finally crushing him. They settle, and he forces himself to speak. “I want to live a normal life, one where I’m not getting constantly shot at. So yeah, I guess. I do. Or did, anyway. It’s not like I can do that anymore, with Earth being all…” Hunk blinks at the rock above him. “Like it is.”

 

“If you had the chance now, would you leave?”

 

“I- I guess, yeah.” Hunk sighs. The taste of dirt is thick in his mouth, and lungs. He feels the urge to cough, but the pressure hemming his body in creates the image of expansion, and combustion. He clears his throat.

 

His wrist aches dully somewhere far from here.

 

Pidge is quiet. Hunk isn’t sure what this means. Is she upset? It’s not like the revelation was unknown, and even if it were, he can’t think of a reason why it would upset her.

 

“Pidge?”

 

No answer. Hunk realizes that in all this time, he hasn’t asked her about her condition. They both took the same fall, and it was only due to a stroke of luck that he ended up as uninjured as he is. 

 

“Pidge?” He calls again, his voice rising in pitch as anxiety and worry begin to brew inside of him once more. “Pidge, are you okay?”

 

Through the stone and wood and metal encasing him, he can hear nothing beyond the sound of his own rapid breath and beating heart. 

 

“Pidge, please answer me! Say something so i know you’re still here.”

 

A cough, muted and thick. “Here.”

 

Hunk releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The relief is quickly overcome by anger, unfamiliar and hot. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?” No reply. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

 

“What would be the point? We’re stuck here. I doubt anyone can find us, or if they do, will be able to reach us before our filters get clogged.” She coughs again, and Hunk worries that it is blood that she chokes on. “I didn’t want to worry you?”

 

“I’m always worried! And that's no reason to keep something like that to yourself! I care about you.” His voice drops. The words aren’t hard to admit it, but they still stick in his throat like burrs on skin. “I care about you enough to prefer worrying over being kept in the dark.”

 

“I- Okay.” Hunk can hear the sound of rocks shifting again, and this time he does not shy away from it. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been impaled. I’m bleeding slowly around whatever is in me- a support beam, i think, but I’m not dead yet.” Her voice goes a little quieter. “I’m not dead yet.”

 

He reaches out towards the sound of her voice with his free hand, dragging it across the ground even as it catches on rubble and the rock above it, until he touches the wall beside him. He brushes his hand against it until he finds a gap, small but big enough to slip most of his hand through. “I’m here for you. I’m right here.”

 

On the other side of the rubble, he hears the sound of metal scraping against concrete, and then the warmth of her finger wrapped around his. 

 

“I’m right here.”

  
  


OoOoOoO

 

The hours pass by slowly, if they pass at all. His helmet begins to fog first, followed by the slowing of his air filter. The background hum deepens and becomes a low rumble that he slowly comes to ignore. His chest tightens at the lack of oxygen, and he too begins to cough as dust settles in his nose and throat. 

 

“Still there?” He calls.

 

“Still here.”

 

He breathes easier now, impossibly.

 

OoOoOoO

 

Above, the rocks stir and roll and moan. Hunk is too tired, too weak to care. He tightens his hand around Pidge’s and he waits for be crushed-

 

But instead, there is light.

 

He feels weight being lifted off of him, a sudden wave of pain which washes over him like high tide, and for a moment, the relief and the shock and everything he had been feeling- and everything he had been unable to feel- rushes in. 

 

“Pidge.” He croaks. His throat is dry and thick and even though there is air now, he is still having trouble breathing. Above him stands the blue lion, it’s great maw open as Lance slides out. “Pidge,” he calls again. He squeezes her hand, and she doesn’t squeeze back. “Pidge?”

 

Lance uses his jetpack to slow his descent as he lands in the crater beside him. “I gotcha buddy. You’re okay now.”

 

“Pidge?” He croaks again, and this time Lance seems to understand him. He looks to the other side of the wall, where Pidge still lays; where her hand sits still in his. 

 

“She’s- I’m not sure, bud. She looks pretty bad, but uh, Allura is coming, and she’ll help. She’ll know what to do.” Lance rubs the back of his head, and sits down on the ground beside him. “She’ll be able to help her.”

 

Hunk tries to sit up, and his whole body aches with the effort, Lance stands and holds his hands out awkwardly like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Hunk ignores him and pulls himself over to the rock dividing him from Pidge. He peers over it at her sleeping face.

 

She’s not sleeping.

 

He knows that, but she could be.

 

There’s blood running down the side of her face. It pools in her helmert. Did she have a head injury? She had a head injury.

 

A steel pole runs through her stomach, nailing her to the ground, like Christ to the cross.

 

She could be okay. She could be okay.

 

Hunk doesn’t think she is, but he hopes.

 

And as he calms himself down, and reaches over to remove her helmet, her eyes flutter open, and she smiles, faintly, barely, before closing them once more. 

 

Hunk sighs, and leans against the rock heavily. They survived. She survived, and that is enough for now.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
